Satan School of Sophomores

Molding: 11/17/14

9:25am Monday, November 17

Do you ever have a conversation and feel like you're on a stage and you have an audience? Like someone is secretly listening, watching. Every word is being picked apart and analyzed.

That's how I feel. All the time. As if every intimate conversation is broadcasted. As if I'm acting. Everything I do has to be funny, move the story along, entice, interest. I do not know why I feel like this, but you know the quote by Shakespeare.

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players"

I feel like I'm really living it.
Is there a word for that?
A disorder maybe?

9:00pm
You ever look through a hot person's Instagram and then you're like oh bless Jesus for this beautiful sexiness oh my gawd?

I love Instagram, and I love being an internet stalker. If you're a hot YouTube or a hot guy at my school, best believe I am creepin.

My cat is massaging my ass with her cat paws and it's adorable. Aw. She's so cute. She never lays on my back until now. Shoutout to Thumbelina for always being the queen of chill.

So, Kota. He walks his ratchet butt up to me in art. (Side note: my ass sucks, but I talk about ass a lot for someone who doesn't care about ass.) Okay, anyway, we are in the computer lab for art. I decide to chill with my homie, Madi from Illinois, she's awesome; senior, seventeen, knows pretty much everything cool there is to know. Love her. Met her this year. So, us girls are doing some crazy-ass computer project for art in this lab room where there's no teacher (the lab has two rooms, one with teacher, one without). Everyone knows, if you're fun, you go party in the no-teacher room. We are having a good chat, laughing and such, when who should arrive but Kota. He bursts in the door, "Blairrrrrrr, can you help me? I don't know what we are supposed to dooooo." (Best if said in a sexy, dumb, lost puppy voice). Madi is like, "Bro it's a pretty easy project, get a worksheet."
And I'm like yeah.
Then he sits right next to me and says he'll just share a paper with me. I'm like okayyyyy. Madi and I go back to chatting, goofing off, while he just sits there looking at me. In awe? Utter confusion? Horror?

Some guys just stare. I'm like dude WTF stahp. Madi is like, oh Blair you're female-Rob. Loving that male-attention like R loves female-attention. Can't deny that. She's hilarious. Madi and I are talking about Joan Jett, Pat Benatar, Bob Dylan, Freaks and Geeks.

Then Kota says, "I don't know what you guys are talking about."

And Madi and I both derp out.
He needs to get on my level and join the conversation. Please.

I want to mold him into a human being who doesn't like Nickelback and hoes. Speaking of hoes, his hoe, JJ kept popping into the room where we were all "working." We all know she was trying to keep tabs on him. God, she is so desperate. He just ignored her.

Anyhow. Mold Kota.

How bout Jake Bugg and quirky girls?
Operator Please and books?
Walk the Moon and art by Pollock?
Two Door Cinema Club and MC Escher?
Young the Giant and Donny Darko?

Please pretty please. Be more alt-rock and less pop-rock.

I still think he's hot, though.